Angels catcher or London School of Economics?

Two words – "Missed Call" -- blinked to life on the screen last June when Francis Larson, having just emerged from a UC Irvine classroom after slaying another final exam, powered on his cell phone.

Larson listened to the message. Then he stopped shoes-to-concrete still, perhaps for the first time since age 5 when he started smacking long-gone baseballs off an Anaheim Hills ballpark tee and getting smiley- face stickers for his crayon-coloring efforts in his kindergarten classroom.

His brain fired into million-thoughts-a-minute "processing," he recalls, doing what then-senior philosophy majors with beefy 3.78 grade-point averages and "cum laude" on their future diplomas do.

The message was from Bobby DeJardin, a baseball scout with the hometown Angels, who had just selected Larson in the 22nd round, 684th overall, in the 2010 draft.

Larson, a two-time All-Big West catcher who batted .301 and set a school record with 25 career home runs, hadn't factored baseball into his future career plans. Too unpredictable, reasoned someone who has both read Plato and squatted behind a lot of plates.

He had already been accepted to the prestigious London School of Economics, renowned for producing Fortune 500 CEOs and Nobel Prize winners and likely zero major league catchers.

What happened in the next month, next year of change, next 12,000 miles of travel and is still unfolding today between 6:30 a.m. Arizona desert ballpark workouts and late-night cram sessions for economic theory final exams, Larson knows, can't exactly be considered a dilemma.

A dilemma usually involves making a difficult choice between options as undesirable as root canals or spinal taps. The conflict for this consummate scholar-athlete lies in deciding between his two most desirable options, his two most favorite dreams:

Larson could study hard, get a prestigious graduate degree, land a six-figure corporate job and become the next Wall Street tycoon.

Or he could play baseball, which involves slogging through the minor leagues, busing to nowhere towns, living in budget motels (with a roommate), playing in postage-stamp-sized ballparks and three-digit heat, earning poverty wages and making it -- if everything works out right -- to the major leagues.

"I loved baseball but I always loved learning, and I've always pursued both fully,..." says Larson. "Making this decision was by far the hardest one I made in my life."

SCHOOL TIES

His father, Bill Larson, of Orange, is an attorney and general counsel for a holding company. His mother, Kirsten Rokke, a naturopathic physician with a PhD in nutrition, lives in Norway. His sister, Christina, a nurse, lives in Haiti. And Francis Larson hadn't been anywhere but windowless classrooms and dusty dugouts.

Appealing to more his practical, pragmatic or stoic side – the philosophy major knows -- Larson shelved his catcher's mask, mitt, bats and spikes in his Dana Point home and boarded an August flight across the Atlantic Ocean to study in London.

"I wanted to get some perspective, be a full-time student and do academia with full effort," recalls Larson. "I thought the best thing I can do is go to school."

At first he thought he could quit baseball cold. But even while he was engaged in his cognitive science and economic theory courses and enjoying in his British scenery, Larson missed the game.

For his past 17 springs and summers, he had played baseball: Anaheim Hills and Yorba Linda Little League and travel ball; Esperanza High, where he was 2004 Sunset League Rookie of the Year and a 2006 Orange County All-Star and Sunset League MVP leading his time to a league title; UC Irvine, where he was a 2009 Johnny Bench Award semifinalist as the nation's top collegiate catcher and played in the 2010 NCAA Regionals.

"It was dark, cloudy and I was inside studying, and I'm thinking about all my buddies from Irvine now playing in the pros," recalls Larson who had followed the Class-A careers of Jeff Cusick (Philadelphia) and Ben Orloff (Houston).

Larson had forgotten how baseball hurt him before: the scouts who abandoned him after his batting average plummeted more than 200 points to .200 in his junior season at Esperanza; the teams that failed in their promises to draft him after his junior season in college when he was a consensus top-10 catching prospect and hit .309.

“I was reading about how Hank Conger (Huntington Beach High) was doing so well with the Angels, and I thought, ‘I know Hank, I played against Hank!’” remembers Larson about the moment in February when he wanted baseball back.

His baseball reunion began with the London Mets of the British Baseball Federation, where he was teased and called a “phony” because he had to borrow a glove and gear for workouts. Back in shape, Larson, who was about to begin a 2 ½ month spring break between classes and exams, had a family friend and coach Mike Madigan contact the Angels.

"Once I heard that they were still interested, that there was still a shot for me, I moved out of my apartment in two days and was on a plane back home," recalls Larson. "I had gotten the perspective I wanted. I had seen what it's like to be a normal guy, pursue academia, read books all day and live in a big city. Now I can go play baseball."

STUDY BREAK

"Call me when you're ready," said Angels scout DeJardin about scheduling a two-hour tryout with the team at the club's minor league facility in Tempe, Ariz.

After five weeks of baseball workouts at UC Irvine, Larson flew out for a May 10 audition with 60 players, coaches and scouts at Angels extended spring training. He worked through catching drills, threw to second base, caught bullpen and hit.

"It was so natural for me to be back on the field that I wasn't nervous," says Larson, who signed at standard Angels minor-league contract on May 12 at Angel Stadium.

On Sunday Larson packed his car with baseball gear and study materials and made the 400-mile drive from Orange County to Tempe and to baseball.

On Wednesday, he got his first at-bat – and grounded out. He walked the second time and scored a run. In June, the Angels have given him permission to return to London to take his exams. His fall schedule -- both athletic and academic -- is still to be determined.

"I'll be really busy playing baseball all day and studying at night," says Larson, happy to be back to being a scholar-athlete.

He won't need his economics textbooks to know that his ballplayer salary won't come close to covering his $30,000 grad-school tuition. Perhaps a more practical Larson would fret over being in the red but not the Angels red.

"This isn't a money move; it's a passion move," says Larson. "The cities, the businesses, the financial markets are all going to be there in 10 years but my muscles and my baseball opportunity won't."

This is his call. Baseball. It's a calling that his heart won't let him miss.